


The Magnum Opus of Nicolas Flamel

by gaysandcrime



Series: The Slightly Changed But Significantly Different Harry Potter Series [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alchemy, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, But not really? not in a big way or anything, But so is everyone else, F/M, Gen, Harry is a bit gold obsessed, Harry is an Unreliable Narrator, In Character, Magical Theory, Mirror of Erised, Mythology - Freeform, POV Multiple, Severitus, Unicorns and Centaurs and Dragons Oh My, Various Characters I haven't bothered tagging separately, all that is gold is good, and all that is good is gold (or could be with the right rock), eventually, no tea was harmed in the making of this story, small divergences, some serious gollum vibes like jeez
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-25 02:11:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13824291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaysandcrime/pseuds/gaysandcrime
Summary: Dumbledore ignores his staff, Lucius upholds a family tradition and Harry gives in to his desire for a golden cauldron, not precisely in that order.A few key points of divergence and suddenly the whole story changes.





	1. A Little Gold Never Hurt Anyone

**Author's Note:**

> a bit of a 'what if' story, but unlike most this one doesn't hinge on a) out of character actions, b) an alternate universe or c) a major action changing in any way. The Sorting Hat doesn't decide differently, Harry isn't more intelligent, the Weasley's aren't grasping for fame and fortune and all characters are no more or less bigoted than in the original series. Harry, as always is an incredibly unreliable narrator - so I will be using other characters to put words to my thoughts and opinions on some of the issues I have with the original stories.

Disclaimer: blah blah blah, I don't own anything except my insane ideas and the strength to write this version of a recycled story we've all written and read way too many times. Cheers. 

 

Prologue:

The pleasant background chatter in the staff room was interrupted by the sound of porcelain shattering on the stone floor as a mug and two delicate teacups were dropped at precisely the same time.

"What's going on?" Poppy asked warily as in the same instant Rolanda began cackling at the expression on Albus's face. The rest of the non-involved staff tried to pretend they weren't paying any attention, all the while edging closer to the corner of the room where the four involved people sat.

Minerva sounded alarmingly Scottish (that is to say: very angry) when she replied, "That is a bloody good question!"

Albus looked apprehensive. "Now, Minerva," he began, only to be interrupted by the Charms professor.

"She is right, Albus! Quite right!" Filius's voice was barely more than an indignant squeak as he pulled out his wand and repaired the damaged cups, vanishing the spilled tea as well before filling the cups with fresh tea and handing them to their respective owners. "I don't see why you think placing the school - a school full of children! In danger like this is acceptable. And not only that, but you expect us to be fine with relocating classes, all because you've decided to hide the Philosopher's Stone on the third floor corridor? What's to stop the children from finding it?"

The headmaster smiled genially. "There are some plans I have yet to-"

"Excuse me? Did you say Philosopher's Stone?" Pomona, her eyes wide, turned to Irma who was seated in the chair beside her. "He did say Philosopher's Stone, correct? I'm not going crazy?"

Irma frowned and turned her (rather formidable) glare on Albus. "No, you're not, but I can hardly say the same for him."

Severus snorted, though there was very little humour to be found in his blank expression and Albus turned his pleading gaze to him. "My boy, you understand why this has to be done, don't you?"

With a speed and accuracy aided by his youth and duelling experience, Severus threw his full mug as hard as he could. It flew passed the headmaster, a hairsbreadth from his long crooked nose, before it crashed and shattered against the wall. In the sudden silence, the sound of tea dripping down the wall was broken only by Severus's harsh breathing. His blank expression had not changed, but his cheeks were flushed red with anger. "There is very little I will not forgive you for, Albus," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "But this is crossing a line. You would tempt the Dark Lord, give violence and destruction a hold over this school, and still claim to have any concern for the safety of the students?"

"We do not know for certain that it is Voldemort whom desires the stone," Albus reminded him, although his previous genial and calm demeanour was somewhat shaken by Severus's actions and words. "As you have pointed out already, many wizards and witches wish for eternal wealth and immortality."

Severus sneered as he clutched his left forearm. "Do you take me for a fool? We both know that the Dark Lord did not die eleven years ago, Albus."

"And even if he had," Minerva interrupted, "any witch or wizard who wishes to steal the stone, Dark Lord or not, is a risk that this school can not afford to take. You will just have to tell Nicolas and Perenelle to find another option."

With a sigh, Albus shook his head. "I'm afraid I cannot do as you ask. The stone is being removed from Gringotts tomorrow and will be brought to the school by someone I trust, where it will stay in my office until the appropriate time. That is all I have to say on the subject." He ended his statement firmly, but much to his irritation his colleagues paid him no heed as they continued their questioning.

"You're not even going to be transporting it yourself?"

"Appropriate time? There is nothing about this situation which is appropriate!"

"I still can't believe you would put it in the third floor corridor! Preposterous!"

"That is enough!" Albus stood abruptly and faced them all. The questions stopped but the room was filled with anger and tension thick enough to cut. "That is enough," he said, somewhat more calmly than before. He placed his cold tea down and moved toward the door. "I have taken your protests into consideration, but there are circumstances you have not been made aware of, and as such my decision stands. The Philosopher's Stone will be moved to Hogwarts."

The crowd of teachers (plus Argus) erupted in grumbles and anger filled whispers. Just as the headmaster was leaving, Filius spoke up once more. "You didn't answer my question, Albus. What's to stop the more curious students from wandering into the third floor corridor and stealing it?"

Albus turned as he reached the door and once again smiled genially. "Why, didn't I mention? Each of you will be placing a protection of your own making in front of it." And with that, he left, leaving behind a room full of angry and shocked teachers (plus Argus).

+ 

 

Chapter 1: A Little Gold Never Hurt Anyone 

Quirinus Quirrell watched the retreating backs of Harry Potter and Rubeus Hagrid, and wondered what on earth Dumbledore thought he was doing, allowing the half-giant of all people to escort the Boy-Who-Lived to Diagon Alley. He sipped from his cup of tea and tried not to roll his eyes at the crowd around him as they all whispered excitedly to one another about meeting the wretched child. Placing his cup down, he walked swiftly up the stairs to the room he'd been renting for the past week, and he scowled at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

"Dumbledore is a fool if he thinks that great buffoon can keep Potter safe," he muttered to himself as he began unwrapping his purple turban.

A softer voice, more of a hiss, really, came from behind him. "Dumbledore has become complacent, these past ten years. That can only benefit us in our goal."

Quirinus smirked and pulled on a black cloak, the hood throwing his face into shadow. "Yes, my lord."

+

Harry Potter was having the most amazing day and it had hardly even begun. So far he'd met a half-giant, been told he was a wizard, watched the Dursley's be put in their place (awesome), been on a boat moved by magic - magic! And then, even though he didn't think it could get any better (or stranger) he found himself in an entirely new world, surrounded by witches and wizards in robes buying things he'd never heard of from shops he'd never seen.

Truth be told, if Harry had been a normal Muggle-born or Muggle raised child, the Wizarding World (and consequently magic) wouldn't have been half so strange, for he would have seen films or read books and comics where magic is real and strange things happen. Had he been a normal Muggle raised child, with a normal Muggle education in basic literary devices, he might have recognized his own archetype long before Fate (and an ancient wizard who like to put his crooked nose in places it didn't belong) pushed him onto his tragic and ridiculous path. He might have said, "This is my story and no it's not narcissistic to say I'm the main character." Unfortunately, Harry grew up deprived of television and films, and never got to read a decent fantasy book (although he did once read a young adult vampire romance novel, which thankfully he recognized for the trash it was and promptly forgot all about it). Instead of an education he got bullied, and on top of that was forced to get terrible grades in order not to show up his cousin who's intelligence rivalled only that of a poorly trained dog (his Aunt Marge's dog Ripper comes to mind).

So, because this isn't one of those stories where the characters are self-aware (because let's face it: the original Harry Potter is pretty oblivious and the tags say In Character, so...) and it certainly isn't one of those stories where the fourth wall is acknowledged and therefore broken... well, because it isn't one of those stories, our Harry is quite like the original Harry. In fact, he is exactly like the original Harry, and therefore the beginning of our story is also exactly like the original story, right up until it isn't (I did say small divergences, after all).

And that is where our story begins. 

+

After leaving Gringotts, Harry and Hagrid (who looked a bit green from the carts) made their way over to a shop called Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions. Harry peered in through the window before pushing the door open to get a better look inside. “Cool!” he mumbled to himself, looking around at all the different types of robes and cloth samples he could see. He turned to hold the door open for Hagrid, only for Hagrid to stop him with a pat on the shoulder.

“Ya alright t' go without me, 'arry? Jus' that, I'm still not feelin' so good cause o' those carts.”

Harry studied Hagrid's face for a moment, noting the nauseous look, and nodded. “Sure, I'll be alright. I'm used to doing stuff on my own, don't worry.” He smiled and Hagrid smiled back as he turned and made his way back down the cobbled street toward the brick wall they had entered from. Turning back around and letting the door fall closed behind him, Harry took a couple steps forward and glanced at the counter to see if there was anyone there who could help him.

Just then, a short older woman came bustling out of the rows of robes with a smile on her face and a measuring tape in her hand. “Needing robes for Hogwarts, then, my dear?” She didn't bother waiting for an answer before herding him on toward an area he hadn't yet seen. There was another boy standing there, about his age, with light blonde hair and the type of pale skin most native Englishmen and women have. Harry shot a smile in his direction as the woman (presumably Madam Malkin, although she hadn't introduced herself so Harry couldn't be sure) pushed him up onto a sort of stand.

The boy didn't seem to notice Harry smile at him, though he did notice Harry's gobsmacked expression when a couple of measuring tapes floated toward him and began taking his measurements without anyone holding them in place. The blond scoffed and rolled his eyes. “First year at Hogwarts, are you?” His tone was dismissive and his face entirely uninterested, but since it was the first time anyone had spoken to Harry without asking to shake his hand, he decided that now was as good a time as any to have a conversation and ask some questions.

“Yeah, I'm really excited actually. I never knew magic even existed until last night, so this is all pretty strange.” He beamed at the boy and couldn't help the giggle that escaped when one of the measuring tapes tickled his side.

“You're a Muggle-born, then.”

Somehow the other boy's voice was even colder and more uninterested than before, and Harry frowned. “Um, I don't know. What's a Muggle-born?”

The boy sneered. “Someone who's parents are Muggles, obviously.”

Harry shook his head. “That's alright then. My parents were both wizards – er, well, I suppose my mum was a witch, not a wizard, but yeah,” Harry shrugged.

“Were? What do you mean?” The sneer was gone and for the first time since he walked in here, Harry thought he could hear a bit of curiosity in the boys voice.

Feeling a bit pleased at that, but a bit uncomfortable with the topic, he looked down and swallowed. “Uh, well, my parents are both dead. I was raised by my aunt and uncle, who are Muggles.” He looked back up.

The other boy had an expression on his face that Harry had never seen before, and so couldn't place. “Ah.”

Before Harry had the chance to reply to that, although he wasn't sure exactly how, Madam Malkin snapped the measuring tapes out of the air and smiled at him. “Well dear, you're all done here. Come back in an hour to pick up your robes, they'll be ready then.” She moved away to talk to an assistant, and Harry hopped down from the stand he'd been on.

“Well, see you, I guess,” he said, looking up at the blond who was still standing on his stand with that strange look on his face.

“Wait, what's your name? Mines Draco.”

Harry grinned. “Harry.”

For the first time, Harry saw Draco smile. “Bye, Harry.”

Harry's grin grew wider and he waved as he walked to the door of the shop. “Bye, Draco.”

The door of the shop clunked closed behind him.

+

“Hagrid, look! Is that real gold?” Harry pointed up at the gold coloured cauldron which was seated high above him on a shelf near the ceiling of the dimly lit apothecary. Despite the terrible lighting, the moment Harry stepped inside his eyes caught sight of the shiny metal, and he just knew he had to have it.

“Of course it's real gold!” The store clerk spoke up from his place at the front of the shop. He sounded rather offended, although to be fair it was a rather rude question.

Harry jumped up and down. “Wow! That's the one I want, Hagrid, definitely that one!”

Hagrid's brows drew down as he grunted. “Yer list says pewter, 'arry. Don't know wha' ol' Snape will do if yer got the wrong one.”

Harry stopped jumping. “Who's Snape?”

“Professor Snape teaches Potions, best Potions Master 'n Britain.”

Sighing, Harry looked down. “Oh. Well, I guess you're right, Hagrid. I wouldn't want to make Professor Snape mad.” He looked up with a grin. “I'll just have to buy both!”

And so he did, despite Hagrid's protests. After placing the two cauldrons onto the counter, Harry then wandered around the shop looking for all the rest of his Potions supplies. He came across tons of gross and weird things in various jars and bins, each one more disgusting than the last; beetles and eyeballs, scales and spider legs. By the time he was nearly finished, Harry was almost positive there wasn't a single disgusting thing he hadn't seen.

“All done, Hagrid!” He dumped his potion's ingredients onto the counter next to his cauldrons and waited for the clerk to tally the price up. “Whew! I'm sure glad I grabbed so many Galleons from the bank.”

“Jus' how many Galleons did ya grab, 'arry?”

Harry laughed and rattled the coins in his pockets. “Definitely way more than you told me too.”

+ 

Lucius Malfoy sighed in annoyance and resisted the urge to box his son's ears, something he'd never done before but which was looking more and more like the right course of action the longer this insipid argument went on. "Draco, I told you before we left the Manor, I told you once we arrived here and I am telling you again; you have a perfectly serviceable broom at home, and since you aren't allowed a personal broom at school, you will have to wait until next year for a new one."

"But, Dad, can't you just-,"

"Draco, enough! I am tired of this argument. I am not going to change my mind." Why oh why had he decided his child would never be spanked? Maybe then he wouldn't be in this ridiculous situation.

"But, but...Mum!" Draco turned to appeal to his mother.

Narcissa quickly wiped the amused expression from her face and glanced down with a small smile. "I'm sorry, Dragon, but I agree with your father. Perhaps if you are good and work hard at school you can ask again at your birthday." She waited until Draco turned around to sulk before smirking up at her husband. "I won't say I told you so."

Lucius shook his head and smiled ruefully. "Yes, yes, you're always right and I should remember that." He smirked and turned to look at his son, who was sulking behind them, a pout on his face. "Come along, Draco, we still have your books and wand left."

Draco scowled and crossed his arms. "I don't care."

Raising a single, perfectly arched eyebrow, Lucius held his arm out to his wife. "Now, Draco. And maybe if you remember your manners I will let you choose an owl of your own."

Grey eyes lit up in excitement. "Really? I mean, alright, that's acceptable I suppose." Nose to the air, Draco stepped in front of his parents and began walking toward Ollivander's wand shop.

Lucius grumbled and muttered, "I thought I said manners, not airs."

Narcissa snorted and took his arm so they could follow along behind their son at a leisurely pace. "Hmm. Remind you of anyone?"

"You didn't even know me at eleven!" Lucius said, his cheeks the tiniest bit flushed. He blamed the heat, of course.

"You're right," she said, nodding in agreement. "But then what does it say about you, that you were like that at 16?" She gave him a triumphant smirk before pulling her arm gently from his, ushering her son forward into Ollivander's shop.

His flushed cheeks turned even redder. "Cissa!" He followed them inside, trying not to sulk and failing spectacularly.

 


	2. A Galleon For Your Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> introducing an alchemist and his wife, a tradition upheld, and a large dog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just thought I'd point out that I really hate the way JK uses various characters (Ginny, most of the Slytherins, Arthur Weasley, Regulus, most of the Professors, the ghosts, etc.) as convenient plot devices instead of actual people in the story. We get very little background information on anyone but the major characters, and other than the Golden Trio most of it comes much later in the series (Sirius, Snape, Dumbledore, Voldemort, etc.) In fact, apart from Hermione and maybe (MAYBE) Lily, she often lets female characters be overlooked once they've been used to further the plot, and never really gives them characteristics or personality past the bare minimum. Even with Lily we see this, as she's only mentioned a few times by Harry and only then in relation to other peoples mums, and then she's brought out in relation to Snape and the Marauders. We hear a lot about James and his personality, activities, likes and dislikes but very little about Lily apart from "You have your mother's eyes" and that she was gifted in Charms and by all accounts a good person.
> 
> I don't know, it just really bugs me. And I get that her books aren't really advanced literature or anything, and that it's basically written like a crime series...but I don't know. I just think if you're going to world build, the least you should do is flesh out your characters. Which is what I'm going to do, because honestly, there are so many great and overlooked characters that I just can't wait to get the chance to write about! Anyways, if you read this whole thing then cheers, now on to the story!

Chapter 2: A Galleon For Your Thoughts  
  


After that day in Diagon Alley, when he had disguised himself and broken into Gringotts only to find the Stone had been removed, Quirinus and his master were furious. They had spent months planning, carefully gathering resources and information, only to have it all come to naught.

"If only Hagrid had not seen me here that day," he muttered to himself as he waved his wand, letting his magic pack his trunk while he scowled out the small dusty window. "Perhaps then I could use the rest of my summer to plan, while Dumbledore and the rest of those fools believed me gone." He spun around and slammed the lid of his trunk closed, shrinking it with a spell and shoving it into his robe pocket.

"But he did see you, and no doubt Hagrid has already informed Dumbledore of your arrival back in England." The voice from behind him spoke softly, and Quirinus spoke equally softly back as he gathered his cloak in his arms.

"My Lord, please, save your strength," he said, taking one last look around before moving out into the hall and walking to the staircase. "I will just have to find a way to plan underneath Dumbledore's crooked nose. I don't believe it will be too difficult, as you said, he has become complacent." With a sigh Quirinus walked down the steps and up to the counter where Tom stood.

"All done, Professor?"

Trying not to sneer, Quirinus nodded and handed over a small bag of galleons and sickles which jingled as he set it down. "Th-thank you, Tom," he spoke, making his voice soft and unsure, his eyes darting around nervously as he walked out of the bar and into a dark alley a few yards away. Once he was hidden, Quirinus rolled his eyes and straightened his spine, allowing the sneer he had been supressing to enter his voice as he said, "I will be glad when this charade is over, Master, but I'm afraid I have no idea where Dumbledore may have moved the Stone."

The voice from behind him was barely a whisper. "I will be glad when I have my body back, Quirinus, and you will be justly rewarded for your loyal service."

With a smile, Quirinus whispered back, "Yes, Master," before apparating away.

+

The last month of summer was spent in peace, as now that Harry had a wand the Dursley's seemed less inclined to speak to him, never mind force him to do the gardening or cooking. Although his trunk (and consequentially all of his school things) were locked away in his cupboard, Harry refused to let that stop him. The first time Vernon left for work, Dudley left for a friends house and Petunia left for the shops, Harry raced downstairs and picked the lock of his cupboard as quickly as possible, using a diagram in a library book for reference. It finally popped open after about seven minutes, and Harry grinned triumphantly before opening his trunk and grabbing as many of his textbooks as he could manage to carry. Not knowing how long it would take his aunt to fetch the groceries, Harry quickly shut his trunk and the cupboard door. Closing up the padlock, he gathered his tools (an old hairpin of Petunias and a paperclip he'd stolen from Dudley's backpack) and lifted the library book up to sit atop the stack of school books in his arms.

The moment he reached his room (and wasn't that something! He had his own room now!) he dumped everything onto his bed. His still unnamed snowy owl hooted at him from her cage, and he smiled at her. Maybe he'd find a good name for her in one of his books. Flopping down and grabbing his Potion's text, which Harry thought would be really interesting but also pretty hard. He wanted to be as prepared as possible, especially since he could now get good grades without any trouble from his family. Oh, he was really looking forward to that! With a happy sigh, Harry opened the book and began to read about the importance of preparing your ingredients and materials properly.

+

**_[on the outskirts of a village in Devon, early August]_ **

In the drawing room of their home, Nicolas Flamel and his wife Perenelle sat on the loveseat, a tea tray between them. The fireplace across from them was cold and unlit, and the only light in the room came from the half-moon outside, who's light shone in through the window and bathed them both in silver. The day had been peaceful and pleasantly warm, and sky outside was clear enough that they both of them could see the stars shining brightly above. Husband and wife sat in companionable silence, until that silence was shattered by an owl crashing into the window.

"Oh my!" Perenelle jumped up in surprise before turning. "Nicolas dear, open the window and let the poor thing in," she said, a hand held to her chest to try and calm her racing heart. Nicolas sighed and did as she asked. The owl fluttered in and landed on the mantel above the empty fireplace, it's leg sticking out with a letter attached.

Nicolas removed the letter from the owl, who then flew back through the window. Looking at the envelope, Nicolas turned to Perenelle with his eyebrows raised. "It's from Gringotts," he said, and they shared an anxious look before both sitting back down. Removing the wax seal from the envelope, Nicolas pulled the sheets of parchment out and flattened them against his thighs. He squinted at them for a moment, raising them back up so they were closer to his face, but still couldn't quite make out the words. "...Mr and Mrs Flamel, we...regret to...," he read slowly, until Perenelle sighed impatiently and snatched the letter away.

"Honestly Nicolas, you have reading glasses for a reason! I suggest you use them!" She held the letter out of his reach until he rolled his eyes and removed a pair of rectangular wire framed spectacles from his robe pocket. Putting them on, he blinked a couple of times and then smiled when his wife handed the letter back to him.

Looking down at the parchment, his smile turned into a grin. "Yes, that's much better," he said, ignoring his wife's amused huff before continuing to read the letter.

 

 

> "Mr and Mrs Flamel, 
> 
> We at Gringotts Wizarding Bank regret to inform you that on the day of July 31st, 1991, vault 713 which is registered under your name was broken in to. Nothing was stolen, as the vault had been emptied earlier by Rubeus Hagrid, under the direction of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, who possessed a note signed by you and your vault key.
> 
> The criminal is unknown and the matter is being investigated thoroughly. We apologize for this inconvenience and as stated in the contract signed at the acquirement of vault 713, will compensate you for your troubles. Please meet your account manager Ragnar at the bank on the 4th of August, 1991, at 4:00 for further details and to go over your next steps.
> 
> Gnarlak, Head Goblin of Gringotts Wizarding Bank, London Branch"

The other pages were various things, such as copies of their original contract, sections of the Goblin-Wizarding Banking Agreement Act written up in 1475 and edited last in 1873. He placed those down and handed the letter from Gnarlak over to his wife, his hands shaking a bit as he did so. "A Galleon for your thoughts, my dear," he joked, but his voice was hoarse and the joke fell flat.

Perenelle was pale as she quickly read over the letter, and her eyes were filled with terror when they met his gaze. "Nicolas," she said slowly, "do you know what this means?"

"Yes," he said, closing his eyes in resignation. "Gringotts, an impenetrable fortress, has been breached. The Philosopher's Stone was nearly stolen, and Albus was correct all those months ago. Voldemort is back."

"You must write to Albus, Nic, and tell him we need it back."

"I cannot do that, Perenelle, you know this," Nicolas opened his eyes and looked beseechingly at his wife, who only frowned and shook her head at him.

"He is placing Hogwarts in danger, Nicolas! Voldemort will come for the Stone, and the students..." she cut herself off, a hand rising to clutch the pearls around her neck.

Nicolas reached over and gently removed her hand from its clenched position around the necklace, instead placing her hand between his two and squeezing it lightly. "Albus has a plan, I'm sure he won't let anything happen that would endanger the school." He sighed. "And I couldn't demand it back if I wished to. He called in his debt," his voice was soft and pained as he said this, as if he was reluctant to admit to it, but Perenelle merely squeezed his hands back.

"I don't like it, Nicolas," she said quietly back. "But I understand. I will write to Albus tomorrow to explain the situation, and then we will go to Gringotts to get out affairs in order."

"Perenelle!" Nicolas sounded shocked, but she only smiled sadly.

"You know it is the end, darling. Either Voldemort gets the Stone, or Albus destroys it. It is how it was always going to be, the moment we let it leave here."

Nicolas sighed and turned to face the window, which was still open slightly from when he had let the owl in. "You are right, of course. You always are."

She turned to face the window as well, and her smile dimmed. "Sometimes I wish I wasn't," she whispered, and they both fell silent once again, looking out the window at the night but seeing only the end of their paths.

+

"Quirinus! How delightful to have you back." Albus smiled down at the professor and waited for him walk up the steps to the Entrance Hall. "And how was your sabbatical? I heard you spent much of it traveling. Something about a vampire?"

Twitching slightly, Quirinus gave the headmaster a tremulous smile. "H-headmaster. How kind of y-y-you to meet me."

Albus frowned when he heard the other man's stutter, and began steering him down the corridor in the direction of the Hospital Wing. "Are you quite alright, Quirinus? Poppy is currently in residence, would you like her to-,"

Quirinus stopped walking and shook his head. "No, Headmaster," he said softly, wringing his hands. "Th-that won't be necessary. I m-m-merely have suffered the d-due consequences of m-m-my adventures." He smiled and gave a shaky bow before turning away. "If y-you don't mind, P-p-professor, I'd l-like to unpack my th-things."

"Yes, of course," Albus said, wiping the frown from his face and letting his blue eyes twinkle. "I'm so glad you've agreed to take the Defence position this year, Quirinus, and I wouldn't want to stop you from setting up. Will you be joining us for dinner in the Great Hall this evening?"

"N-n-no," Quirinus said slowly, as if thinking it over. "I think I w-will take din-din-dinner in my rooms. If th-that's alright?"

Albus nodded. "Quite alright! Enjoy your first night back in the castle, Quirinus, and I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow!" Albus turned and began walking back down the hall toward the staffroom, before he turned back around suddenly. "Oh! And one more thing," he said, and Quirinus had to force himself not to roll his eyes at the man's dramatics.

"Yes?"

"I've had the Philosopher's Stone moved to the school, and will be needing the teachers to place protections around it," Albus was once again smiling, and his blue eyes twinkled behind his glasses like pieces of stained glass. "So please, think about what protections you will place, and we will discuss it later this week." And with that, he turned and left.

Quirinus stood frozen in the middle of the corridor, his mind blank and his fists clenched. He mouthed the words 'moved to the school' and 'protections' a couple of times, before bursting out in hysterical laughter. The portraits gave him strange looks as he walked to his new quarters, but he paid them no mind.

"It's in the school! And that old fool wants me to place protections around it! Me!" He laughed gleefully once he was behind the closed and warded doors of his new rooms.

Everything was falling into place.

+

The month of August passed quickly for the residents of Hogwarts, and before they were ready it was the last week before the start of term. Standing in the Entrance Hall after a last minute trip to Diagon Alley for supplies, Severus scowled at Albus as the man came up to him with Minerva by his side.

"Ah, you've returned. Come, walk with me." The three of them were silent as they walked through the halls, aware of the portraits gazing curiously at them. Albus waited until they were nearly at his office and safely away from the prying portraits before speaking. "Now, have you thought about what your protection shall be? I was thinking-,"

Severus shook his head and interrupted him. "Absolutely not."

"Severus, it is imperative that I have your cooperation." Albus sighed wearily and turned his gaze to the right. "Yours as well, Minerva."

She sniffed and drew herself up until she was standing as tall and as stiff as possible. "You should have thought of that before proceeding down this idiotic path. Now, if you are quite finished with this, I must finish my Seventh Year syllabus before the students arrive next week." Minerva turned abruptly and strode away, leaving the two men standing next to the ugly gargoyle which guarded the Headmaster's tower. 

Albus turned back to him and peered at him over the top of his spectacles. Despite being shorter than Severus by at least four inches, Albus still managed to look down at him somehow. "You would allow the students to be placed in such danger? I am disappointed in you, Severus. I expected better."

"And I expected better of you, yet here we are." Severus made his voice as dry and empty as was possible, tired of having this conversation yet knowing it would continue to be had so long as he refused to play his part.

"You are being purposefully difficult," Albus said, his annoyance growing although his face didn't show it. "Even Quirinus has given me his aid, and he arrived back less than a month ago."

Sneering to show what he thought of Quirrell, he said, "Well then, if _Quirinus_ is helping you, everything is-,"

"Severus," Albus spoke in warning, and Severus grimaced.

Instead of continuing his insult, he turned away, adjusting the bag which hung over his shoulder and carried the newly purchased potions ingredients. "If you cannot be concerned for the safety of the school, then why should I be? You would guilt me into aiding you, and yet feel no remorse for your own actions."

Albus sighed. "I have told you that there are circumstances which you are unaware of-,"

"Then tell me!" Severus interrupted, turning back with a snarl.

"- that you will _remain_ unaware of," Albus continued, his voice getting louder the longer he spoke. "But circumstances which make this the best and yes, the safest course of action. I am sorry, my boy, but it is done. The best thing you can do is lend your skills for safeguarding the stone."

Severus was shaking with barely restrained anger at this point. "I will not protect something which places my students in danger for the sake of whatever game it is you are playing."

"Not even if it keeps the boy safe? You made a vow, Severus."

His anger got the better of him, and he practically growled as he said, "Do not think to remind me of what I have done! I swore to protect him and so I shall, but I will not let you rope me into this, Albus, when I don't even know what you're planning."

Albus leaned forward, his tone coloured with anger as well. "And if protecting Harry means protecting the stone?"

Calmed down enough after his outburst to get back control of his expression, Severus raised an eyebrow and drawled, "Ah, so the boy is involved. Of course, I should have known."

In contrast to the Potions Master, Albus only seemed to grow angrier at that statement. "Do not go looking in places you should not be, Severus," he warned, his eyes flashing. "I have already told you that you cannot know."

"Of course, Headmaster," Severus said, sneering slightly before turning and stalking away, presumably back to the dungeons. His bag swung out behind him in an imitation of his robes, and Albus could hear the sound of his heeled boots for long minutes after he had turned the corridor out of sight.

His anger suddenly draining from him and feeling extremely exhausted, Albus sighed and patted the gargoyle, waiting for it to jump out of the way before moving up the staircase to his office. "He'll come around, Fawkes," he said to the phoenix perched on his desk. "Sooner or later, they both will."

+

Hagrid trudged into the Forbidden Forest, Fang on his left and carrying in his arms a rather strange variety of items. There was a large rubber ball, red in colour, much like a quaffle only three times as big, and a long leather leash, thick as a birch tree's trunk and about as long as one, too. Over his shoulder he carried a bag, made heavy by its contents. He whistled a merry if discordant tune, and didn't stop until he emerged from the trees into a large clearing.

"Fluffy! 'ere boy!" Hagrid yelled, placing his items on the ground. Heavy footsteps came toward him, and suddenly a giant Cerberus burst from the trees, its three tongues lolling out as it pounced on the half-giant and licked his face.

"Oi!" Hagrid yelled, laughing gruffly. "Down, boy, down! Yer worse than Fang, ya are!" He waited until the Cerberus calmed down before patting it on the head. "I brought ya summit to eat," he said, and then pulled a couple of steaks out of the bag he was carrying and tossed them up into the air. Fluffy immediately snatched them into his mouths and began chewing, leaving nothing left behind. Fang whined enviously, and Hagrid grinned as he reached back into his bag and dropped another steak onto the forest floor.

"An' don' worry, Fang, I dinnit forget ya neither." Barking happily, Fang gnawed on his steak happily. In the meantime, Hagrid began bouncing the rubber ball on the ground, waiting for the Cerberus to finish his snack and notice. When the leftmost head snapped up and caught sight of the ball, the other two followed along as Fluffy began running toward it. Hagrid stopped bouncing it and threw the ball as hard as he could, causing Fluffy to run full tilt back into the forest after it. They played fetch for a while, Fang joining in every now and then although he never had a chance to actually get the ball before Fluffy. Finally, after about three hours, Hagrid stopped and put the ball into the bag, which was now sitting on the ground beside the leash.

"Alright," he grunted, picking the leash up and moving forward toward the Cerberus. "Let's get this thing on ya, then." Fluffy whined but let Hagrid clip the strange leash onto each of his three collars. Double checking that the leash was secure, Hagrid hauled the bag back onto his shoulder and snapped for Fang, who ran up to walk beside him once again. As he began walking back toward the castle, Fluffy stopped and growled in confusion.

"S'alright," Hagrid said soothingly, reaching over to pat the middle head's nose. "Dumbledore needs ya for summit important, ya know. Summit special." They began walking again and this time the Cerberus didn't make a sound.  

+

Two hours before the train was even set to leave, Harry stood awkwardly next to the sign for Platform 9, his trunk in a trolley beside him. He'd sent Hedwig out this morning with instructions to make her way to Hogwarts, so at least nobody was giving him strange looks for having a caged owl with him. He looked around constantly, trying to see if anyone who looked like a witch or wizard was coming his way, but as far as he could tell the crowd remained non-magical. His uncle had begrudgingly dropped him off a few minutes earlier, with a warning to stay out of trouble and not to come home for Christmas, which Harry was quick to agree to. Who would want to leave a magic school in order to have Christmas with the Dursley's? He's nearly stuck his tongue out at the thought, but as his uncle was still there glaring at him, he'd just said, "Yes, sir!" and made his way to the platforms. Which is why he found himself standing awkwardly by Platform 9, wondering if his ticket was printed wrong, and wishing Hagrid were with him.

After about ten more minutes of waiting, in which Harry became so bored he feared he'd have to read his History of Magic text just to stay awake (it was the book nearest the top of his trunk, and he didn't want to unpack everything right there on the Platform), he jumped when he heard a high voice speak up from somewhere in the crowd.

"There's so many of them! I don't understand why we didn't just apparate onto the Platform, honestly, this is disgusting!"

A much lower, but equally loud voice replied. "Because, Draco, it's a family tradition. This is how it was my first year, and my father before me. When you have a son, so it shall be for him as well." 

"He might have a daughter, darling." This time it was a woman, and her voice sounded much closer than the others. Harry stood up on his tiptoes and tried to see over the adults in front of him. Suddenly a family came in to view, and Harry was relieved to see that the parents were both dressed in Wizarding clothes, although it wasn't as obvious as it could have been and it didn't look like any Muggles were looking at them strangely.

The man spoke again, his lips curling up in a smile. "You know what I meant, Cissa." His long blond hair trailed behind him while his wife's was pinned back in an elegant bun. The boy between them rolled his eyes and sighed, and that was the moment Harry recognized him.

"Draco!" He smiled brightly and started jumping up and down, waving his arm to get the families attention. The three of them looked over in unison, and Draco immediately ran forward.

"Harry! Hi!" he said, before seemingly remembering that his parents were with him. He turned back and beckoned them over, although both of them were already coming their way. "Mum, Dad, this is Harry. I met him in Diagon Alley earlier this summer." He turned back around and smiled. "Harry, these are my parents."

Suddenly shy, Harry looked down and scuffed the toe of his trainer against the ground. "Hullo," he said, looking up through his fringe.

The woman smiled at him while the man looked at him with curiosity. "Hello Harry, I'm Narcissa. It's always a pleasure to meet one of Draco's friends," she said, resting her hand on Draco's shoulder. Draco grinned up at her before glancing at his dad.

"Harry, you say?" the man said, before the corners of his mouth turned up. "I'm Lucius Malfoy, and as my wife said, it's always a pleasure to meet one of my son's friends." He held his hand out and Harry nervously reached up and shook it.

"Thank you, sir, and uh, ma'am."

Draco rolled his eyes and huffed. "Whatever!"

Narcissa's eyes narrowed. "Draco, don't be rude." She turned to Harry. "Where are your parents, Harry? I'd love to meet them." She smiled warmly and he wished he didn't have to disappoint her.

Shaking his head, he spoke quietly. "Um, my aunt and uncle left a bit ago. Sorry you couldn't, er, meet them."

If either of Draco's parents thought it strange that he didn't mention his parents, they didn't show it. Instead, Narcissa merely nodded and said, "Well it's good you're here so early, Harry," she smiled and patted her son on the head, making him cry out in protest. "You can share a compartment with Draco, and keep him company."

Harry smiled tentatively at Draco, who smiled back, and his fears about having to ride the train alone disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I understand that the fandom believes Voldemort didn't leech off of Quirrell until AFTER he attempted and failed to steal the stone from Gringotts. BUT I would like to point out that nowhere does it actually say that, only that Voldemort kept a closer eye on him after failing.  
> ["He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me... decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me...."  
> We assume this means he didn't begin leeching off of him until then, but! since we can't know for sure (and this fic is all about fucking with the assumptions we make instead of basing outr beliefs on the facts) I'm going to keep it the way it is:) 
> 
> Edit: It's true that in the books he shakes Harry's hand in the Leaky Cauldron, but doesn't in the movies. In the books he's also not wearing his turban, I think, which is another reason we all assume Voldemort isn't attached to him yet. It's my belief that he is already attached to him, but isn't yet visible because he is still too weak. Also nowhere does it say that Quirrell is bald, so possibly Voldemort is hiding behind his hair, which I think is hilarious. Either way, it's possible for Voldemort to already be there, and still have both the books and the movies different interpretations of the scene make sense. 
> 
> Edit 2: He shakes Harry's hand in the books, but not the movies. If you want to find out how this is possible even while Voldemort is attached to Quirrell in my story, go to this link - https://somebody-already-took-this-url.tumblr.com/post/171497784962/hp-magical-theory-possession-vs-parasite


	3. The Nouveau Riche

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Lucius is not Abraxas, Harry makes many friends and Minerva gives in to her desire to drink

Chapter 3: The Nouveau Riche

> _If either of Draco's parents thought it strange that he didn't mention his parents, they didn't show it. Instead, Narcissa merely nodded and said, "Well it's good you're here so early, Harry," she smiled and patted her son on the head, making him cry out in protest. "You can share a compartment with Draco, and keep him company."_
> 
> _Harry smiled tentatively at Draco who smiled back, and his fears about having to ride the train alone disappeared._

 

Lucius was surprised Draco had managed to make a new friend without his knowledge, although he supposed it was bound to happen at some point. What truly surprised him, however, was the child's identity.

"Is that...?" Lucius's question trailed off, and his wife's hand tightened around his upper arm as they both caught sight of the distinctive scar on the boy's forehead, half hidden by his hair.

Draco let out a gasp. "You're Harry Potter!" he exclaimed, all but pointing at the other boy in excitement. Lucius wanted to reprimand him for his behavior, but found himself unable to speak due to his shock. Narcissa's hand once again tightened around his upper arm.

Potter shrunk backward a bit, trying to smooth his fringe down over the scar as if to hide it from sight. "Um, yeah, I guess so."

"Well, why didn't you tell me?" Draco's voice was filled with indignation, but Lucius caught the slight tremor of insecurity which was hidden beneath.

"You didn't tell me your last name, either! And besides, I didn't think it was important," Potter's voice was also filled with indignation, although Lucius could tell there was much more than insecurity hidden beneath. In fact, he sounded quite nervous and unsure by the end of his sentence.

Draco scoffed. "Not important? You're the most famous person in the bloody world!"

"Language, Draco!" Narcissa snapped, before turning toward Potter with a smile she normally reserved for close friends and family. "No harm done, dear."

Potter smiled slightly back, before he turned to Draco and took a deep breath. "I didn't want you to be my friend just cause my last name," he said in a rush, before flushing and glancing away.

"That's dumb, of course I'm your friend."

Lucius cut in before his son could make an even bigger fool of himself. "Perhaps, Draco, it would be best _not_ to call your friends dumb." He raised an eyebrow as he looked down at his son. "Besides, I for one do not wish to spend any more time amongst the Muggles," he said, sneering slightly before looking down at Potter with a neutral expression. "I'll assume you don't know how to get onto the Platform, Mr. Potter?" Lucius waited for Potter to shake his head in response before continuing. "Well then, it's quite simple: you must walk through it."

“We just...walk through it?” The boy's voice was unsure, and Lucius held in a sigh.

“Yes, Mr. Potter, we just walk through it,” he said, tapping the brick wall with the end of his snake headed cane.

“Like in Diagon Alley, sir? Hagrid showed me how, when we went to pick up our school supplies.”

Another irritated sigh suppressed, Lucius reigned in his impatience. That bumbling, giant oaf was the one to introduce Potter to the wizarding world? Ridiculous. “Not quite. Learn from example, yes? Draco, we'll go through first.”

His wife spoke up from beside him. “Yes, darling, show Harry how it's done.” She pushed Draco forward slightly, grabbing hold of his trunk. “No, leave this behind, I'll bring it along with Harry.” Lucius smiled slightly at her, before stepping forward to place his hand on Draco's shoulder, propelling him toward the barrier. This was, though Lucius would never admit it to anyone but his wife, an incredibly important moment for him. The first time he himself had ever stepped through the barrier, his father had been there by his side, guiding and reassuring him. Now, decades later, he was here doing the same for his son. Were he a more sentimental man, Lucius thought, there would no doubt be a ridiculous display of emotion. As it was, he squeezed Draco's shoulder gently and let the corners of his mouth lift in a not often seen genuine smile.

His son spoke up just as they were taking that first step into the brick wall. “See you on the other side, Harry!” As soon as they reached the other side of the barrier, Lucius rolled his eyes and pulled his son to the side. The smile remained on his face, however, as he contemplated this unexpected turn of events. While it was certainly advantageous that his son had befriended Britain's most famous wizarding child, Lucius was less certain about this new propensity toward childish behaviour. Before he could say anything about it to Draco, however, his wife emerged with Potter at her side, both trunks floating along behind them. Lucius raised his eyebrow at the sight of Potter's hand clutched firmly in hers, but Narcissa shot him a quelling look and he endeavoured to ignore it. Not even such a display could ruin his good mood, he thought, and turned toward his son, who was busy gazing at the Hogwarts Express with an expression Lucius and his wife would cherish for a long time.

“Awesome,” both boy's said at nearly the same time, and then grinned at each other. Lucius shared a look with Narcissa over their heads, before pushing Draco forward.

“Well then, we haven't got all day,” he said firmly.

Draco seemed to regain his sensibilities and stood up straight. “Right,” he said, before moving to hug his mother tightly and grab hold of his trunk. “Goodbye, mother, father.”

Lucius shook his hand as his father had done, before pulling him in to a tight hug. “Write us weekly, Draco, and do not neglect your studies.”

“I will, I promise,” Draco said, his voice muffled against Lucius's stomach as he hugged his father back just as tightly. Lucius held his breath as he let his son go, suddenly feeling much more emotional than he had been before. Narcissa slid her hand into his and clasped it tight, and he let himself draw strength from her.

“And stay out of trouble, darling, or I won't send you your favourite sweets,” his wife's voice was firm, but Lucius could see she was hiding a smile as she leaned against his side. “That goes for you too, Harry. Be good, have fun, but most of all stay safe.” Lucius watched as Potter's head whipped around, his green eyes wide behind those ugly glasses of his.

“Um, yes, Mrs. Malfoy,” he stuttered out, his cheeks red with what Lucius assumed was embarrassment, until the boy beamed up at the both of them. The platform suddenly became a flurry of activity around them, and as Lucius checked his pocket watch he realized that it was time for his son to board the train.

“Best get on the train now, Draco, if you wish to find an empty compartment,” he said, and watched as his son gave Narcissa one last quick hug before grabbing both his and Potter's trunks and walking toward the train, Potter following along behind. The boy was still beaming inanely, and Lucius was pleased to observe that Potter's lack of good breeding and manners only helped to highlight Draco's own. Well, if they insist on being friends, he thought suddenly, at least it will make his son look his best.

He stood on the platform next to his wife for the next few minutes, waiting until the boy's had settled into an empty compartment and stowed their trunks safely away above their heads. When the whistle blew for last call, he linked his arm through Narcissa's and both raised their free hand to wave goodbye, watching as their son did the same, right up until the train turned and disappeared round a bend in the track. Letting his hand drop back down to his side, Lucius let out a slow breath.

“I don't know how you manage it, Cissa,” he said quietly, walking toward the closest apparition point on the platform with his wife by his side. “But that was quite a bit more difficult than I expected it to be.”

Narcissa smiled and patted his arm gently. “You set the bar too high for yourself, Lucius. I expected it to be one of the hardest things I've ever done, and it was. I let myself prepare for it, unlike you.”

“Yes, but my father-,” he replied, before cutting himself off and shaking his head. “I know, I know, 'I am not my father',” he said, giving his wife an amused look before turning on the spot and apparating away, Narcissa tucked into his side. They had landed just outside the gates of Malfoy Manor. Lucius continued to speak as they made their way down the cobbled drive toward their home, changing the subject. “So, Potter.” He raised a single well groomed eyebrow.

“Yes, I wanted to discuss Harry as well,” Narcissa said, her eyes lighting up suddenly as they always did when she had found a new cause to dedicate her time to. He suppressed a snort; he should have guessed this would happen from the moment they had laid eyes on the boy, he thought with amusement.

Her elbow nudged his side, and he tried not to let his amused smile show. “Quite. Potter is the most famous boy in Wizarding Britain, perhaps the world, and he was raised by Muggles. Disgusting, and undoubtedly Dumbledore's doing,” he sneered slightly as he stepped into his home, handing his cloak over to the house elf standing at the side of the entrance hall.

“Hmm,” she replied, doing the same before continuing in a thoughtful tone. “And to have Hagrid be his sole introduction into a new world...the idiot didn't even tell the poor child how to enter the platform!”

“Also Dumbledore's doing, no doubt,” Lucius sighed, and pulled his wife close. “And now Draco has decided to befriend him, though he will quite certainly not be in the same house,” he mumbled into her hair, letting her presence calm his nerves, which were frayed from the knowledge that he wouldn't be seeing his son until Christmas break.

“I think it's wonderful they've decided to be friends,” Narcissa said, her arms tightening around him and a smile in her voice. “Perhaps they will be a good influence on one another.”

“Yes, Draco will undoubtedly teach Potter how to be a proper wizard,” Lucius agreed, and smirked at the light slap his wife gave him. Oh, it's good to be home.

“And maybe,” she said, her voice warm but firm, “Harry will make Draco less inclined to spoiled behaviour and tantrums.”

Lucius huffed, “Oh, and who's fault is that?”

“I don't think I should answer that, dear, for fear of causing a tantrum,” there was a smirk in her voice, and he stifled a laugh before drawing back in mock horror. Yes, he thought to himself as he chased her down the hall, her giggles leading the way, it's good to be home.

+

Harry watched Draco wave enthusiastically to his parents until the train turned a corner. He kicked his feet out in front of him, letting them swing listlessly in the air. “Your parents are cool,” he said quietly, not really sure what to do now that they were both alone. What sort of stuff did friends talk about, anyways? He had no idea, since he'd never really had a friend before. Parents were an okay topic, right?

“They're alright,” Draco said dismissively, before taking a deep breath and letting it out quickly. “Um well, my father's really important I guess, since he works with the Minister and what not. And mother is always planning the next important event among the upper class.” He shrugged and leaned back in his seat.

With a frown, Harry shook his head. “No, I meant your parents are...um, nice, to you. And stuff.” He flushed and stared down at his trainers. “They really love you,” he said, watching his legs swing back and forth in the air. He glanced up quickly through his fringe.

“Of course they love me,” Draco said (a bit snottily) before wincing and also looking down. For a few minutes the silence stretched between them, awkward and tense.

“It's okay, you know,” Harry said suddenly, only just that instant realizing that maybe parents weren't the best topic of conversation. “I don't remember mine at all, but that doesn't mean you're not allowed to miss yours.” He would have said more, because he wanted Draco to know that it really was okay, that just because Harry was an orphan didn't mean he wasn't allowed to talk about his parents in front of him. But just then the compartment door opened and a girl with an upturned nose and short dark hair in pigtails stepped in.

“Draco, we've been looking everywhere for you!” she exclaimed loudly, before pulling on his arm to drag him out into the corridor. “Sorry,” she said, not sounding sorry at all, “you can have him back later. Maybe.”

His arm being nearly yanked out of its socket, Draco grimaced and turned to Harry. “Sorry,” he said, and Harry smiled because even if the bossy girl's apology wasn't genuine, Draco's was.

“S'alright,” he said agreeably. “I'll see you later, yeah?”

Draco barely had time to nod before he was dragged out of the compartment and the door shut behind him with a bang. Harry sighed and leaned against the window, watching the scenery pass by and trying not to get motion sick.

+

Percy ushered Ron down the corridor, trying to find him an empty compartment and failing. He sighed in irritation and glanced back down the corridor toward the front of the train, where the Prefect's were supposed to meet in a few minutes. “I'm going to murder Fred and George,” he muttered under his breath, before adjusting his glasses.

Ron, freckle covered and smudged with dirt, glanced around at the full compartments nervously. “Every where's full,” he said morosely, pulling his trunk along behind him. “Do you think Fred and George would let me sit with them?” His tone was hopeful, but Percy shook his head firmly, thinking of the tarantula he had seen Lee Jordan carrying earlier when he'd greeted the twins.

“No,” he said, and then glanced once again down the corridor toward the Prefect's compartment. “Look, Ron, I have to go, but if you keep walking I'm sure you'll find a compartment that has room,” he smiled and nudged his brother forward, before tapping his wand against the heavy trunk to lighten it. “There, now you won't have to drag that thing the whole way.

Ron smiled slightly. “Thanks, Percy. Good luck with all that Prefect stuff!” He hauled the trunk into his hands and continued on looking for a compartment. Percy watched him for a moment, torn between helping his brother and getting to the meeting on time, before deciding that Ron would be fine. He spun around and all but ran back the way they had come, holding his spectacles onto his face with his hand so they wouldn't fly off. He came to a stop outside the compartment door and ran a hand through his hair, trying to make it seem as if he hadn't rushed in last minute. With a deep fortifying breath, Percy knocked.

The compartment door slid open, revealing a fifth year Slytherin girl Percy recognized but couldn't name. She stared at him for a moment, before stepping back to let him in. “You're late, Weasley,” she said, and he thought she might be insulting him somehow, but her face was blank and her voice polite.

“I apologize,” he said as he came in, and noted that there were no empty seats available, both him and the Slytherin girl being left to stand once the compartment door closed. “I helped my brother find a compartment.”

“Another brother?” the girl standing beside him asked, and once again Percy was unsure whether she was insulting him or not. He decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.

“Yes, it's Ron's first year. He's very nervous.” He didn't look at her as he spoke, but from the corner of his eye caught her lips curve up in a slight smile.

“Yes, well now that we're all here! Let's get on with it, shall we?” Everyone else in the compartment nodded as the Head Girl spoke up. They all listened intently as both Head Girl and Head Boy outlined their responsibilities and duties, and Percy let his curiosity about the Slytherin Prefect dissipate.

+

Harry was still alone and leaning against the window when the compartment door once again opened. He straightened up, expecting Draco to step back in, but instead a different boy stood there, his trunk in front of him.

“Hullo,” the new boy said hesitantly, holding up his trunk. “Can I join you? Only, everywhere else is full.” His face was pale and covered in freckles, his large ears bright red and his nose smudged with dirt, but it was his blue eyes which peeked out through his messy orange coloured fringe which immediately calmed Harry's nerves.

“Sure, there's plenty of room,” he said easily, before standing up and holding out a hand. “Want me to help you with your trunk, though? They're really heavy.”

The boy just shook his head and stepped forward, lifting his trunk with one hand as if it weighed nothing at all. “Nah, it's alright. My brother Percy used a spell to make it lighter,” he demonstrated this by easily lifting the trunk up onto the rack so it rested between Harry's and Draco's.

Harry waited until the boy had sat down in one of the empty seats before asking, “You have a brother? I'm Harry, by the way.”

The boy smiled and pulled a fat sleeping rat from his pocket. “I'm Ron, and this is Scabbers,” he said, before making a face. “And yeah, I have a brother. I've got five.” He stuck his tongue out like this was the worst thing in the world, and Harry laughed.

“Five brothers?”

Ron nodded. “And a sister.”

Harry stared for a moment, flabbergasted, trying to imagine what life must have been like with six siblings. “There's seven of you? Are you the youngest?”

“Nah, that'd be Ginny, the girl. Certainly don't act like it, though, that's for sure! She can be worse than the twins, sometimes. I'm the second youngest.”

“Twins?”

Ron shrugged, rubbing his nose (but somehow managing to miss the smudge of dirt on it completely). “Fred and George, they're both in third year. Always playing pranks and stuff, and getting away with it, too! And then there's Percy, he's in fifth year and a Prefect, which he didn't shut up about all summer. Mum and Dad are really proud of him, though, so that's good I guess.” He shrugged again and began scuffing the toe of his shoe against the floor. “Bill, the eldest, works for Gringotts as a curse breaker. He's somewhere in Egypt, I think. I dunno, Mum was telling us about it during supper last week but I wasn't really paying attention.”

“Wow, that sounds really cool. I didn't know wizards worked for Gringotts, though, I thought only Goblins did.” Harry thought for a moment before asking, “And what about the other one?”

“Oh, Charlie. He's a bit younger than Bill, and he works in Romania as a dragon tamer. Wicked, right?” Ron grinned and Harry couldn't help but nod and grin back. Suddenly their conversation was interrupted as once again the compartment door was pushed open, revealing a girl with incredibly bushy hair and rather large front teeth.

"Have either of you two seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one." Her voice was a bit like that bossy girl from earlier who'd stolen Draco away, and Harry narrowed his eyes a bit as he watched her look around their compartment.

"No, we haven't seen any toad. Look, you can't just come barging in on people like that," Ron said, adjusting Scabbers on his lap. "It's a bit rude, innit?"

The girl frowned. "But a boy has lost his toad, and I'm helping him look for it! I'm Hermione Granger," she added, and stuck her hand out for a shake, but Ron ignored it.

"Yeah, well, it's still rude. I'm Ron Weasley," he said, before pointing over at Harry. "And that's Harry..."

"Potter," Harry said helpfully, trying to flatten his fringe against his forehead to hide his scar. "Harry Potter."

Both Ron and Hermione froze and turned to look at him. "You're Harry Potter? Oh! I've read all about you," the girl said, her face lighting up as she came to sit down beside him.

Harry smiled weakly. "Er, read about...me?" 

Ron cut in before Harry's question could be answered. "So, do you have like, you know," he gestured to his forehead eagerly.

Sighing in defeat, Harry pushed his hair back and waited for both Ron and Hermione to finish exclaiming over it before he let his hair fall back to cover it. "Yeah, but it's really not a big deal, or anything. I grew up in the Muggle world, so I didn't even know what it all meant until this summer."

Hermione's brown eyes lit up. "Oh, me too! When I got my letter this summer, my parents thought it was a joke, but then Professor McGonagall explained everything. It's quite exciting, isn't it?" She looked at Harry and he nodded, thinking about Hagrid and how he'd given Dudley a pigs tail.

Ron looked a bit confused. "Wait, so you're a Muggleborn, then?" he asked Hermione, and for a moment Harry was afraid that would be a problem.

"Yes," Hermione said slowly, as if wondering the same thing, "My parents are both Muggles. Is that alright?"

"Yeah, of course. Just thought you might not be cause you hardly seem nervous at all." Ron shrugged.

"Oh, well I was in the summer, but I've been studying the textbooks for weeks now. I'm fairly confident I'll be able to keep up with everyone else." She smiled shyly at them both, tucking a loose curl behind her left ear. "Do either of you know any spells?"

Harry shook his head. "I read the textbooks too but I haven't tried any spells yet. What about you, Ron? Did your brothers teach you any?"

"Brothers?" Hermione asked, and Ron groaned.

"Five," he mumbled, before straightening up and pulling a wand out. "Uh, I haven't read the books or nothing, but Fred and George taught me a spell that can change the colour of something! Wanna see?"

Both Harry and Hermione nodded eagerly. Ron pulled a face and tapped his wand against Scabbers back. "Alright, guess I'll do Scabbers, then." He cleared his throat and began. "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow...turn this stupid fat rat yellow!" He poked the snoozing rat a couple of times, but nothing happened.

"Um..." Harry and Hermione exchanged a look. "Was something supposed to happen?" Harry asked.

"Yes, are you sure that's a real spell?"

Ron shrugged and put his wand away. "I dunno, I guess not. The twins were probably trying to trick me," he sighed and shoved Scabbers back into his pocket. "Oh well, I don't think he'd be any less pathetic even if he were a bit yellower. What about you, Hermione?"

Hermione pulled out her wand, which Harry thought was much prettier than his own as it had what appeared to be vines and leaves swirling around it in a pleasing pattern. She seemed to contemplate something, eyes darting from her wand to the ground, before she nodded firmly. She pointed her wand, and Harry was alarmed to find himself at the other end of it. She smiled reassuringly at him for a second, before saying firmly, "Occulus reparo!" and suddenly Harry felt the glasses, which had been bent and held together by tape, fix themselves.

"Wow!" he whispered, pulling them off of his face and turning them about in his hands. "Thanks, Hermione! They're in even better shape than when Aunt Petunia first bought them!" He shoved them back onto his face with a grin.

"Yeah," Ron added. "That was pretty awesome. What other spells do you know?"

Hermione opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a knock on the compartment door and a voice saying, "Anything from the trolley, dears?" She leaned over to open the door, and Harry's stomach grumbled when he caught sight of all the snacks and sweets.

"Yes please!" he said, pulling a couple of loose galleons out of his pocket and handing them over. "Can I have some of everything?"

"Of course, dear," the trolley witch smiled at him pleasantly. "Anyone else?"

Harry turned to look at Ron, who just shook his head and pulled a bundle of wrapped sandwiches from his pocket. "Mum made sandwiches," he explained, but Harry noticed him eyeing the trolley hungrily. He turned to Hermione next, who looked a bit unsure.

"My parents are dentists," she said quietly, before shaking her head and turning to face Ron. Harry shrugged and smiled at the trolley witch as he collected his sweets.

"Thanks," he said, dumping them onto the seat between him and Hermione. He then divided the pile into four, making sure that each pile had a bit of everything. "Here Ron, you can have this," He picked up one of the piles and moved it over to the seat beside Ron. "And Hermione, even if you don't want all of it, this one is still for you." He pushed one of the piles over toward her.

Both Ron and Hermione smiled at him, and he smiled back. "Thanks, mate," Ron said, and Hermione nodded.

"Yes, thank you."

His smile grew wider. He'd never been able to buy anyone anything, before! Having money was awesome. "What are friends for?"

All three of them (yes, even Hermione!) were busy munching on their sweets when Draco marched into the compartment and interrupted them. "I expected you to be waiting for me, miserably alone," he said teasingly, and Harry's head shot up and around, a grin on his face.

"You're back!"

Draco sniffed imperiously. "I did say I would be, didn't I?" He glanced around before moving to sit in the empty seat two down from Ron. "Sorry about earlier, Pansy can be a bit bossy."

"S'alright. I saved you some candy," Harry said, feeling suddenly shy as he remembered what they'd been talking about earlier, before that girl Pansy had interrupted them. "Here, this is for you." He picked up the remaining pile and walked over to dump it next to Draco.

"Thanks," he said, and Harry noticed that he looked a bit surprised.

Harry nodded and then glanced at Hermione and Ron, who were both looking awkwardly at Draco. "Oh, right. Um, this is Hermione and that's Ron. Guys, this is Draco Malfoy." He smiled at both his new friends as he made introductions.

Ron nearly choked on the chocolate frog he'd been eating and Harry watched Draco stiffen. "Think my name's funny, do you?"

Clearing his throat, Ron shook his head. "No, just that I, uh, didn't expect you to know Harry."

Eyes narrowed with suspicion, Draco huffed. "Well, we met at Diagon Alley in the summer," he said slowly, his tone superior and haughty, although he was no longer as stiff as a board. "Anyways, you're obviously a Weasley, what with that hair," he pointed up at Ron's head. "But I'm afraid I've no idea who you are," he said, looking at Hermione curiously.

"Hermione Granger."

"She's a Muggleborn," Harry said suddenly, staring at Draco and hoping he wouldn't say anything rude. He knew Draco didn't like Muggles, but he really wanted his friends to get along.

"Oh," Draco said awkwardly, glancing from Harry to Hermione and back again. "Um, well, that's...nice," he sounded flustered and unsure, before he straightened up and held out a hand. "I mean, it's nice to meet you, Miss Granger."

Hermione looked amused. "You can call me Hermione," she said as she shook his hand. "And it's nice to meet you too."

Draco smiled shakily. "You can call me Draco, then, Hermione."

Harry grinned and Ron groaned. "What am I, chopped liver?" he asked loudly.

With a smirk, Draco said, "Yes," at the same time Harry said, "No," and everyone looked at each other before bursting out laughing.

"Well, you can call me Ron, I suppose," Ron said, grinning, and Draco smirked back at him.

"And you can call me Draco."

Harry sighed happily, glad that all of his new friends were getting along. "Ron, Draco, why don't you teach me and Hermione how to play Exploding Snap? I've never played before but I bet I could beat you!"

+

"Would it be terrible of me to have a bit of whisky before the students arrive?" Minerva murmured, causing Severus to snort into the cup of tea he currently held. "Even just a wee bit in my tea?"

"Terrible," Severus deadpanned as he placed his teacup down, before lifting a silver flask from his pocket and pouring a healthy amount into his cup with a smirk. "Absolutely terrible."

With a snort of her own, Minerva pushed her cup toward him. "Aye, and don't I have the right to be terrible on this day of all days?"

"I am certainly not disagreeing," he said, and topped her cup up before pushing it back toward her. "The beginning of a new school year is always a good reason to drink. Although perhaps this one more so, considering the headmaster's scheme." Severus sighed and took another sip from his own cup. 

"Cheers to that," Minerva said wryly, and glanced across the staffroom to where Albus was holding a conversation about banned joke shop items with Argus. "And don't forget another year teaching the Weasley twins."

"Hmm," Severus hummed, his face pensive. "Not to mention Narcissa and Lucius's spawn."

Minerva raised her eyebrows and smiled. "Not quite as fond of your godson as you like to pretend?" She took a healthy sip of her tea and sighed, the warmth from the alcohol spreading through her limbs, the taste of the whiskey mixing well with the plain black tea she was drinking.

"On the contrary, Draco can be quite a delightful child when alone. It's the thought of an audience of students which makes me wary."

"Is he likely to act out?"

"Well," Severus paused to consider, before saying, "Imagine Lucius at eleven being raised and endlessly spoiled by Narcissa, and you'll have a pretty good idea of Draco." He smirked at Minerva's horrified expression, and said sarcastically, "Yes, exactly my point. You can see why I so look forward to the beginning of term."

"Merlin's balls, what a combination. Thank goodness he'll be in your house and I'll hardly have to deal with him," she muttered, raising her tea cup in a mock toast.

Severus did the same. "You still have the Weasley's to deal with, however. I hear there's another one this year as well." He nearly laughed at the glare she shot at him.

"The older ones are easy, it's the twins which require constant supervision," she said with a sigh. "Thankfully I made Percival a Prefect this year, so that should help. Still, another Weasley..." She sighed again and drained her cup.

"And don't forget, Minerva, young Harry will be joining us as well, this year! Quite thrilling isn't it?" Albus spoke up from behind them, startling both Severus and Minerva. "Yes, I do so love the beginning of a new term."

"That's because you don't have to teach, you old fool," Minerva muttered under her breath as Albus walked past, and Severus choked, tea splattering across the table in front of him.

Coughing to try and get the tea out of his lungs, Severus pulled his wand from his sleeve and cleaned up the spilled tea. "A warning," he breathed out between coughs, "next time you do that, if you please."

"But I so rarely have an advantage over you in our conversations," she said pleasantly. "I must take what I can get." Getting up from her seat, she grabbed both of their cups and moved toward the table in the corner where the tea and coffee were located. She paused, looking between the teapot and the coffeepot. "I had forgotten about Potter," she said slowly, and ignored the groan from behind her, "what with all of this ridiculous scheming Albus has been doing. Perhaps something stronger than tea?" She turned around to get Severus's response, and her jaw dropped; Severus was chugging the contents of the flask like his life depended on it.

He slammed the empty flask down onto the table and closed his eyes. "Yes, something stronger, if you please," he said, his voice slightly strangled, and Minerva wasn't sure whether to laugh or admonish him.

"Severus!"

Severus opened his eyes and glared at her. "Potter, Minerva. Bloody Potter."

Minerva sighed and poured them both strong cups of black coffee. "Bloody Potter," she agreed, handing him his cup and sitting back down heavily. "Still, I wish you'd left me some. I'm the one who'll have to deal with Potter, once he's sorted into my house."

She laughed as Severus pulled another flask from his robes and handed it over. "Really, Severus?"

"They refill themselves, and I have two doses of Sobering Solution as well," was all he said in reply, before uncapping his own and taking a healthy swig.

She sighed and did the same. "Aye, I'll drink to that," she said wryly, and the both of them proceeded to get incredibly sloshed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find anything related to this fic (art, edits, theory, sneak peeks, character designs, etc) on my tumblr under the tag #the magnum opus of nicolas flamel or #tmoonf for short. My tumblr is @somebody-already-took-this-url, and it's pretty rad so have fun.


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